Friday, June 19, 2015
On the screen beside the mango tree, a grasshopper stretched its yellow legs. Its markings are black and orange and red. It crawls its way up toward the roof, the sun's own child, while ping pong is played. I gnaw on a cold turkey wing and drink a cold beer. A mason wasp squeezes through a hole in the screen. The green hanging mangoes look flushed and tired, the red in their cheeks tells us just wait, a few more days.